


keep me

by andnowforyaya



Category: B.A.P, K-pop
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, Oral Sex, Semi-Public Sex, daehyun is a business man, prostitution??, youngjae likes sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-08
Updated: 2014-02-08
Packaged: 2018-01-11 15:22:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1174658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/andnowforyaya/pseuds/andnowforyaya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Youngjae has never really wanted a relationship. He's like the champion of casual sex. But then he meets Daehyun, and nothing about Daehyun can be described as casual.</p>
            </blockquote>





	keep me

**Author's Note:**

> Response to this prompt by [sigmame1307](http://sigmame1307.tumblr.com): umh hey, i read your daejae ff and i kind of like it okay, well, i really like it actually. the first snow one and i didnt have an ao3 acc so i wrote here instead. beside i want to give you a prompt. i like smut ff, so how about making something like Youngjae being someone who love sex and used to one night stand. and kind of earn money with that, he never fell in love because he didnt believe in love. while daehyun was a businessman (kind of older like five years than Youngjae)? and then he made Youngjae you know... fell for him. i'd be happy if you grant it :D i guess this is the most lame and cliche prompt you've got. lol. keep writing, btw. i really like your story. :)

There was the smell of something frying coming from his kitchen. Youngjae wrinkled his nose in half-wakefulness, the sharpness of the smell gradually bringing him out of sleep. He brought the covers over his head and sighed.

A crash and the sound of glass breaking against his tiled kitchen floor, however, made him bolt right out of bed, nearly tripping into the pair of briefs he'd flung off last night. He slid out of his bedroom and into the small open space that made up his living room and kitchen, and saw last night's lay sheepishly hunched over and picking up pieces of broken glass with his bare fingers from the tiles, dropping them into a plastic bag he must have found in one of Youngjae's cabinets.

He looked up at Youngjae and grinned, close-mouthed and eyes forming crescents, and said, "Sorry, did I wake you?"

Youngjae crossed his arms over his bare chest and stomped forward, stepping past the guy and opening the cabinet underneath his sink to pull out a small dustpan and brush. "What are you still doing here...What was your name again?" Youngjae squinted at him.

"Daehyun," the guy said. "I was hungry." He looked up again but this time at the stove, where there were the blackened remains of what must have been scrambled eggs in a sautepan. "Sorry. I was going to make some breakfast for the both of us? But then I was opening your cabinets and one of the glasses fell out and broke. And then I forgot I was cooking. And then it was too late."

Youngjae rolled his eyes. "Do you always try to make breakfast the morning after for the people you pay to have sex with you?"

This time Daehyun squinted at him. They were close, both squatting on Youngjae's kitchen floor and working together wordlessly on cleaning up the mess. He was wearing a v-neck undershirt and his dark jeans from the night before. "I didn't pay you," Daehyun said slowly, tone rising at the end to hint at a question.

Youngjae stopped cleaning, holding the brush in his hand. "The fifty bucks in my pocket tells a different story. I don't normally go for so little, but pickings were slim."

This made Daehyun look for Youngjae's pockets, but of course he was only wearing his briefs, and he quickly averted his gaze, cheeks beginning to burn. Youngjae smirked. "My drink tab was, like, four hundred last night, right? That was your  _tip_."

"Funny. I'm not a bartender."

"You're not a  _bartender_?" Daehyun's voice practically squeaked. He was pretty, Youngjae thought, if a little dim-witted. "Then - what the - shit. Did I even pay my tab? Shit, Yongguk-hyung was not supposed to be stuck with the bill this time." He stood abruptly, swaying a little. "You're sure you're not a bartender?"

"So sure."

"So you think that I - what - paid you to sleep with you?"

"That's generally how it works," Youngjae huffed, standing too. He pushed the glass bits he'd collected in the dustpan into the plastic bag.

"Well," Daehyun said, gulping. He paused, awkward now, shifting his weight from foot to foot. He opened his mouth again to speak, but jumped instead when the sound of a phone vibrating against the surface of the kitchen counter broke through the silence. He grabbed for his phone like a lifeline, answering it immediately. Youngjae watched him.

"Hyung," Daehyun was greeting into the phone, staring back at Youngjae. "Yeah. I - I just went home. Yeah. Sorry. The bill's okay, right? Oh. Okay, good. I just - last night was a little hazy so I wanted to make sure. Yeah, I'll see you in a bit."

He hung up and slipped the phone into his back pocket.

"I'm sorry I broke your glass," he said, stilted and unsure. "And ruined your eggs."

Youngjae nodded.

"I'll be going, now," Daehyun announced. "Okay?"

Youngjae nodded again, closing his eyes and smiling. That would be nice.

After he left, Youngjae cleaned his apartment and scrubbed himself in the shower. Daehyun had been kind of a good lay, but it wasn't like he'd ever see him again.

.

As soon as he stepped through the bakery doors, the familiar smell of butter and flour and vanilla in the air, his manager, Himchan, threw an apron at him and shouted, "Look who's walking in 20 minutes late with a smug face. Is that a limp? Did you land a big fish last night?"

Youngjae caught the apron effortlessly, a reflex now borne of all the times he has shown up past due. At first Himchan used to nag at him about it, threatening to dock his pay if he continued, but somewhere a switch was flipped, and now all Himchan cared about was whether Youngjae had some sort of sordid affair the night before he could gossip about with his friends. "Does what you're asking constitute sexual harassment?" Youngjae warned. "Good morning to you, too."

"Did you go to Circus again?" Himchan pressed, unfazed as Youngjae slipped behind the counter and stuffed his bag on one of the shelves under it. He tied his apron around his waist. Himchan was wiping down the small tables that crowded the front of the shop. The bakery was in a great position in the mornings, getting full-bodied sunlight through their floor-to-ceiling windows.

"Yeah," Youngjae said, rubbing the last of sleep from his eyes and beginning the process of checking stock at the counter. Jongup would be in the back already, pulling out perfectly fluffy croissants and flaky scones from the oven.

"You always go to Circus." Himchan marched over to the counter, examining the circles under Youngjae's eyes. Himchan had a sharp, pretty face, and Youngjae wasn't sure why he never saw his manager there, at the club they were talking about, because he had the type of face that could certainly draw a crowd, if he wore the right clothes.

"Because it's the only place where guys with money are also usually kind of decent people."

"That doesn't seem like you're asking for a lot," Himchan muttered, leaning against the counter now, on top of the curved glass display. Youngjae turned to make sure they had enough coffee beans in front for the morning, because it was always the Worst Day Ever if by some chance they ran out before the morning rush was over.

He shrugged. There were enough beans. "I'm not," he said.

"So was this guy last night the one? Did you find the guy for you? Are you going to see him again?" Himchan's voice became gradually louder with excitement as he spoke, and Youngjae chuckled. The older man was always asking him if he was going to date the men he slept with, if he was going to stop sleeping around.

But, see, Youngjae didn't see the point in  _not_  sleeping around.

He was young, and attractive, and reasonably flexible. And he also just happened to really love riding dick. And he got tired of things quickly. Men just couldn't ever seem to keep his interest.

"Probably not? I don't even remember his name. Dae-something." He turned back around and Himchan was frowning at him. "What?"

"Sometimes I alternate between worrying about you and wishing I were as carefree as you were."

"Want me to set you up with someone?" Youngjae offered magnanimously. 

Himchan huffed. "I'm a romantic, but that doesn't mean I'm  _hopeless_."

.

Circus was a rare sort of place in the city, right in the heart of Meatpacking and in the basement of a swank hotel. It was dark and everything inside shone like silver, even the boys, and it was here that Youngjae went to on the weekends, dressed in black and shimmer on his cheekbones like he belonged.

His friend Junhong really did look the part, so pale he almost glowed in the club.

The music got better through the night, crescendoing to a beat by half-past two that Youngjae could feel in his bones, no matter where he was: under a booth giving some guy a blowjob or on the tightly packed dance floor or getting fucked in the bathroom.

Most of the time, the guys just bought him drinks, or slipped him a large bill. Once, he got box seats to the next Yankees game that he sold at a ridiculous price to some idiot online. 

Circus was good. It was the kind of place that protected your anonymity and looked the other way. Youngjae thought about it again, and realized that perhaps Himchan wouldn't do so well there, after all.

.

It wasn't like they were a huge bakery or anything; Himchan's mother owned two in the city and oversaw from the family's home upstate while Himchan's father worked in real estate downtown.

They delivered in the area often and had a reasonable reputation and reliable customer base, so it was always kind of a surprise when they got calls for delivery to a new business.

Youngjae had chained his bike up by the new racks installed in the unusually wide sidewalk and he now stood in front of the  impressive, tall building, checking the address on his phone.

TS Tower was the kind of place you stepped foot into only if you had been invited. There was a receptionist that checked your ID before you could even fully enter the atrium, and then there were three other possible receptionists you had to pass, based on the floor you were going to. To Youngjae, everything seemed to be made of marble and glass, and it felt a bit like he had just entered a museum. His footsteps echoed in the grand space as he passed the first receptionist, carrying his box of delivery.

The second receptionist was a young woman who seemed to have stepped right off the pages of a magazine. She smiled at him. "Delivery for Mato Group?" she asked seamlessly.

Youngjae nodded, pulling out his ID for her, and she looked at something behind the counter on her desk. She said, "You can go right up. Take the first elevator and it will take you to the correct floor. The meeting room will be straight down the hall to your left."

The elevator had only three buttons in its panel: emergency, doors open, and doors close. Youngjae hitched the box in his arms a little higher and watched the doors close, a little amazed. When they opened again, he was on the 53rd floor, all without pressing a button. He did as the receptionist instructed, and headed left.

There was a big open space filled with grey cubicles, a wall of windows overlooking the city and the the next building over to his right, and the sound of fingers typing on laptops and people mumbling into their phones. On his other side was a series of rooms, each seemingly more grand than the next. He stepped into the one with its door propped open near the end of the hall, and announced, "So, I'm here to deliver your lunch?"

There was a guy already in the room at the other end. It was huge, the kind of room Youngjae had only seen in movies: a long table lined with plush armchairs, microphones built into each seat. Windows on one side brought a view of the East River, and the wall opposite held a giant flatscreen, where Mato Group's logo was displayed. On either side were counters built into the walls, for refreshments. The guy was standing in front of what Youngjae assumed was the mini-bar, judging from the amber-colored liquids in glass bottles on the counter. He watched him arrange one of the glass bottles just so, moving it a centimeter to the right to line up with the others.

Then he turned around.

Youngjae almost took an involuntary step back, because it was  _that guy_. The guy that broke his favorite morning mug and tried to scramble some eggs and failed miserably. He was wearing a suit, slim and fitted and sharp, and when he saw Youngjae, he smiled.

"You can put it on the counter behind you," Daehyun said. There was no recognition in his voice, but he stood with his hands in his pockets and hummed a bit as Youngjae turned to put the box of sandwiches and pastries onto the other refreshment counter. "How much does it come to?"

He was walking forward. Youngjae bit his bottom lip and told him the total price as Daehyun went to look over the variety of sandwiches that were delivered.

"So, is your role in the company just to take people's lunch orders and make sure there's food at every meeting?" Youngjae blurted as Daehyun handed him a clean set of bills, crisp and fresh. 

Daehyun winked at him. He  _winked_  at him. "Sometimes. If necessary." He paused. "Hey, you seem familiar? Do I know you?"

Youngjae was about to open his mouth, was about to say, "Yeah, remember how you paid me to sleep with you, that one time?" but other people began to enter the grand room. Daehyun nodded at each of them as they entered, as they went to fill the seats around the long table. So Youngjae said, "We've met," and pocketed the money and tip, Daehyun's fingers dry and soft in his palm as he turned to go.

He shouldn't have lingered at the door. When he looked back, Daehyun was pulling out the chair at the head of the table, and then he was sitting in it. He folded his hands onto the flat surface, then lifted two fingers elegantly to tap the microphone twice. The sound echoed through the speakers built into the ceiling. Youngjae gaped. Daehyun said, "Let's get started, shall we?" and there were murmurs of agreement as everyone quieted, settling into the meeting. 

By chance, Daehyun lifted his eyes to where Youngjae was still standing. His lips curled into a smirk and Youngjae felt a shiver run up his spine at the confidence in his glance, at the challenge.

.

The next day, the bakery received another delivery order, to Mato Group, and Youngjae retraced the path he had taken to TS Tower. This time, the first receptionist didn't give him any trouble at all, and the second didn't even ask to see his ID. He went right up in the elevator to the 53rd floor, and turned left.

Daehyun was waiting for him in the second room, much smaller than the one yesterday, with no windows this time. Instead, the walls were paneled in dark wood, and there was only one counter, free of drinks. Daehyun leaned against the table in the center, and this time he wasn't wearing a suit, either, but dark jeans and a black shirt and cardigan, like maybe today was his day off but he still wanted to be presentable. He said, "I remember you, now. Yoo Youngjae."

Youngjae said, "Delivery? Is this the right room?"

Daehyun waved a hand to the side. "Just put it anywhere. Listen, I got you something." He reached behind him and brought out a small box, professionally wrapped in silver paper.

"Uh," Youngjae said, putting his delivery onto the table and stepping closer. Daehyun stood with his legs spaced apart, enough space for someone - anyone - to step between them. But Youngjae eyed the space and took the box. "Is it a weird stalker present? Will there be a camera installed in whatever you got me?"

Daehyun laughed. It was a nice, high laugh that recalled the way Youngjae had brushed his fingers up Daehyun's sides that night, and Daehyun had nearly collapsed on top of him, convulsing in giggles. "No," he promised. "It's not a creepy present. I swear!" he added when Youngjae gave him a dry, disbelieving look.

The paper came off easily. Youngjae discarded it onto the table. The box was heavier than it looked, and plain white. He broke the tape sealing it shut and opened it, and inside lay two mugs nestled in colorful tissue paper. Objectively, they were beautiful mugs - perfectly sized for a morning cup of coffee and smooth and patterned. Youngjae looked up from the mugs. Daehyun was biting his lower lip between his teeth.

"What's this?"

Daehyun smiled easily. He seemed to be able to throw off negative energy as quickly as shedding a coat. "I told you I remembered. I, uh, destroyed your mug? That morning? I thought I would replace it."

"You called delivery from our bakery to bring me over here to give me some mugs," Youngjae said flatly, disbelieving.

Daehyun shrugged. "I also kind of wanted to ask you out on a date. Do you date?"

"No," Youngjae replied.

Daehyun laughed again, but it quickly died on his lips. His brow dipped in confusion. Youngjae refused to find it endearing. "Oh," Daehyun mumbled. "Oh, are you being serious? Or joking? Or...playing hard to get?"

Youngjae lifted his shoulders in a shrug. "I find dating tedious."

Daehyun's face screwed up as he thought about what Youngjae said. He crossed his arms. "What if I paid you?"

This time it was Youngjae who laughed - it bubbled out of him, sudden and unexpected. He watched as Daehyun's face brightened at the sound of it. "You're joking. No way. I'm not an  _escort_."

"Not a bartender," Daehyun said. "Not an escort. I'm running out of options." He smirked. "Can I at least get your number?"

He stepped now into the space between Daehyun's legs, humming low in appreciation when Daehyun's hands automatically came up to rest on his hips. Youngjae leaned close and dropped a kiss onto the very corner of the other's lips, smiling when Daehyun tried to chase him. "No," Youngjae said.

He left the room with his new mugs, and when he looked back, Daehyun was smiling. He felt inexplicably pleased.

.

A call came, as expected, the next day. Youngjae sang under his breath as he packed a much smaller delivery box with just a sandwich and bottle of sparkling water. Himchan peered over his shoulder as he finished, seeing a lull in the line at the register and taking the opportunity.

"You seem unusually happy to be packing that sandwich," Himchan observed.

"It's an unusually good sandwich," Youngjae shot back simply.

Himchan said, "You're delivering to that same place, right? Mato Group?"

Youngjae nodded, putting the box into a plastic bag and tying it up. Himchan wrinkled his eyebrows together. "You make it seem like there's someone you're seeing there."

"It's just a guy," Youngjae admitted.

Himchan gasped. "A guy? Hey, Youngjae, are you using work hours to get off?"

Youngjae shrugged. He said, "Not yet. Soon," and walked out the door.

.

Daehyun's office was about the size of Youngjae's entire bedroom, and it was 53 floors up with a view of the skyline and a remote that pulled the shades down over the windows. Youngjae closed the door behind him, hearing the latch catch automatically, and put the lunch box delivery onto Daehyun's desk, which was a sleek, modern model that was uncluttered and dark, a laptop to one side and an empty mug on the other, and Daehyun behind it in a leather chair. "You came," he said when Youngjae entered, leaning back in his seat.

"I did." Youngjae smiled. He liked the way Daehyun had to look up at him from his seat, liked that Daehyun had an office that locked and people who answered to him, the way his eyes crinkled up when he smiled back.

He wanted to kiss him. Maybe there was something in the air, something electric and foreign, because Youngjae had never really wanted to kiss anyone before, not like this. He wanted to fold himself over Daehyun's lap in that chair and press his lips against Daehyun's, and he wanted Daehyun to hold him down, to keep him.

Youngjae licked his lips.

Daehyun said, smirking, "Should I give you the tip?"

But, god, Youngjae wanted that smirk for himself. He nodded.

Daehyun said, "Then you'll have to come a bit closer."

The chair creaked when Youngjae leaned into it, hands braced over the top, as Daehyun hooked his fingers into Youngjae's belt loops and dragged Youngjae into his lap, until he was nearly straddling the older man. 

He thought of kissing Daehyun as a game, and Daehyun returned in kind. Their lips brushed together, and Daehyun chuckled, a low sound that hit Youngjae right in the pit of his stomach, made him want to push forward and crash into Daehyun, grind into him, but he stayed where he was, breaths ghosting over skin, and shivered. 

He didn't want to be the first to give in.

Daehyun whispered, "I couldn't stop thinking about you, about this, about you bent over my desk or underneath it. You think you could stay quiet? Remember how noisy you were, before?"

Youngjae nodded, pushing his hips into Daehyun's, and felt his lips quirk at the gasp he elicited. "I can stay quiet," Youngjae murmured against that hot, open mouth, and just like that the game was over. Daehyun groaned and pressed their lips together and in a moment they were kissing.

His lips were soft and he tasted like coffee.

It felt like a fever, Youngjae hot and shaking as Daehyun licked into his mouth, did things to his bottom lip that made Youngjae grind down into Daehyun's lap, and he felt hands on his hips then, pulling him ever closer. Daehyun broke from him and suddenly Youngjae was on his back; in one motion Daehyun had lifted him from his chair and brought him to lay on the table, empty mug pushed to the side and Youngjae's legs wrapped around his waist.

He stood in the v of Youngjae's legs and ran his tongue over his bottom lip and Youngjae reached for him, bringing those lips to his neck and holding Daehyun there with a grip in his hair. 

Daehyun gave as good as he got, fingers finding Youngjae's to bring one of his hands over his head against the table, as he sucked a bruise into the sensitive skin just behind Youngjae's ear. Youngjae whined, high and needy, and Daehyun pulled off of him abruptly, the space between them suddenly cold. Without thought, Youngjae pushed his hips off the table, seeking friction, but Daehyun only took Youngjae's other hand and dragged it up, until it joined his other and he could hold both of Youngjae's wrists against the flat surface with one hand. With his other, he traced a finger over Youngjae's lips, flashing that smirk again when Youngjae chased after it.

"I thought you said you could be quiet," Daehyun reprimanded teasingly.

"Nobody heard me," Youngjae protested, pumping his hips again and smiling when he got a hitched breath in return. Daehyun was hard; he could feel in between the fabric of his jeans and Daehyun's suit. He hooked his ankles together and squeezed, and Daehyun groaned when they rubbed against each other, his scolding act stuttering for a bit.

"We don't have thick walls," Daehyun said, with some effort. He was slowly giving in to the minute pumping of Youngjae's hips. "Sound travels so well. Everyone will be able to hear you if you moan, or say my name."

"I guess you'll just have to keep my mouth occupied," was what Youngjae said in return, and that was it. He could tell already that Daehyun loved the teasing, knew that he could probably make Daehyun do a lot of things for him as long as he said it with a certain glint in his eye and slant to his lips.

Daehyun kissed him again, and this time it was different. There was no hunger, no urgency, just the smooth press of lips against lips and Daehyun's tongue and coffee-breath and Youngjae loved it, wanted to be able to kiss him whenever he wanted, and the thought scared him. 

He reached for Daehyun's cock, fingers brushing over the hardness behind the suit, and huffed in triumph when Daehyun spasmed, sensitive. "I want to suck you off," Youngjae whispered, quiet, and Daehyun nodded, straightening himself and watching with hooded eyes as Youngjae slid from the table easily, settling onto his knees in front of him, the back of his head near the edge of the table.

Daehyun curled his fingers into Youngjae's hair as Youngjae worked to unzip his pants, and his fingers tightened when Youngjae peeled away the first layer, when he breathed over the tip of Daehyun's dick straining against the cotton of his briefs. He pulled the elastic band down carefully, reverently, and licked his lips when Daehyun's cock bobbed before him, hard and leaking.

He licked the salty bead of pre-cum from the tip, laughing when Daehyun's knees nearly gave out, and Daehyun had to throw out a hand onto the table to steady himself.

"You're sensitive," Youngjae observed.

"You're a tease," Daehyun gasped back.

Youngjae licked again, content to go slowly, to explore Daehyun's dick and find out what he could do to make Daehyun's knees buckle again. He held onto the back of Daehyun's thighs for leverage, and swirled his tongue around the head.

Daehyun bit back a groan.

He wondered how long it would take until Daehyun would start pushing, would start asking if he could fuck into Youngjae's mouth, if he even liked that sort of thing. Sex with Daehyun had been good but not exceptional, and Youngjae was more than willing to give it another go.

Slowly, he drew Daehyun's dick into his mouth, between his stretched lips, and moaned around the weight. He was heavy on Youngjae's tongue, and thick. Youngjae dipped, shallow, bobbing his head, and Daehyun's grip in his hair tightened again. When he glanced up from underneath his lashes, Daehyun was looking at him with dark eyes, biting his lips to keep the noises to himself. He wanted to hear those noises one day, to hear how loud Daehyun could get. How loud Youngjae could make him.

But this was good. This was great. Youngjae took him deeper, and almost gagged when Daehyun's hips shifted, pushing his cock deeper than he had expected.

"Sorry," Daehyun was quick to say, almost pulling out. "Sorry, sorry."

Youngjae kept his grip against the back of Daehyun's thighs so he couldn't pull out completely, and very deliberately took all of Daehyun down his throat, swallowing around him, muscles fluttering. 

Daehyun groaned, low but loud in the small space, and then he said, " _Fuck_ , Youngjae." 

Youngjae hummed again, the vibrations making Daehyun's hips respond in kind, and with care, Daehyun started to move.

Youngjae liked this part. He kept his throat relaxed, his jaw loose, his tongue heavy, and Daehyun's fingers were like an anchor in Youngjae's hair as he thrust into Youngjae's mouth, into the tight, wet heat of it, growing faster and more confident when Youngjae didn't protest or gag or choke, and Daehyun was making these little noises now, like they were the only sounds that could escape from between his lips.

He lost himself in the bliss of it, in the feeling of Daehyun fucking his mouth, and could sense when Daehyun was close.

"Can I?" Daehyun was asking, voice tight and stilted. "I want to come down your throat. Can I?"

Youngjae squeezed the backs of his thighs because he couldn't nod, and hummed again.

Daehyun came, and Youngjae swallowed him down, wishing he could have heard him scream but relishing the gasps Daehyun was making instead, how quickly they passed as Daehyun shivered with the release, hands now on the table behind Youngjae's head as he floated back down after his orgasm. Youngjae sucked on Daehyun's softening dick, smirking internally at the way it made Daehyun jump, over-sensitive. He let it go, drawing off with a wet pop, and sat back on his heels.

Daehyun followed him. He dropped down to his knees, too, and crowded Youngjae under his desk, and kissed him again, Youngjae's lips swollen and tasting like Daehyun.

Then the phone rang.

Daehyun stilled above him, but he was smiling. He chuckled and said, "Fuck, Youngjae."

"Is that going to be my tip every time?" Youngjae asked him, playing innocent.

.

It wasn't like they were dating or anything, after that. It was mostly office-sex, and good office-sex, and really great office-sex. Daehyun's table was sturdy in about any position, and he'd lied about the thin walls.

.

Then, for a few weeks, they stopped. Youngjae didn't really know why - the intricacies of Daehyun's job didn't really matter to him, and he only knew that Daehyun had stopped ordering delivery from their bakery, for those few weeks.

He felt something at the loss, but didn't want to linger on the feeling.

Junhong was always willing to go with him to Circus, anyway, so that's what they did instead, and it wasn't any different from before, sleeping with the other guys, except now when they kissed him Youngjae closed his eyes and imagined Daehyun's lips, and thought about Daehyun's gasps and smirks and groans and all the other little things he'd never noticed about anyone else when they're having sex, the way Daehyun liked to trace his finger over the shell of Youngjae's ear or lick at the juncture of Youngjae's neck and shoulder.

Whatever.

Youngjae's fucked a lot of other guys and he could continue fucking a lot of other guys.

Except he went to Circus with Junhong (silver hair and silver skin and glitter under his eyes), and Daehyun was there, at a table, looking like he'd always looked in the office before Youngjae got to him - confident and composed and ready to fuck.

"Is that him?" Junhong asked. They were at the bar. Junhong already had some guy to his right buying them drinks, and he brushed off a wandering hand with practiced ease. His friend nodded to Daehyun, who hadn't seen them yet.

"Yeah," Youngjae said simply. "That's him."

"You should go talk to him. Ask him why he's being such a dick." Junhong took a shot that was in front of him, and slipped off the stool to balance against the guy who had bought them for the two friends. "Maybe I'll ask this guy to beat him up for you?"

The guy in question grinned, happy to be acknowledged.

Youngjae shook his head. "No, I'll just--" He looked up again, and Daehyun was looking at him. He licked his lips. Youngjae mirrored the action. "He saw me."

Junhong turned, saw that Daehyun was rising, was pushing his way through the crowd and to them at the bar. He glanced at Youngjae, worry making his brows furrow together. "Should I stay? Go? Tell me."

"It's fine." Youngjae waved his hand at the dance floor. "Go have fun. It'll be fine."

Junhong knit his brows together again, but left at Youngjae's insistence, and shortly after, Daehyun was sitting in the stool next to Youngjae.

"It's weird, seeing you outside of the office," he greeted, and Youngjae wanted to throw his drink in Daehyun's face.

He turned to him, scowling. Daehyun was dressed simply, in black, studs in his ears glinting when the light hit them. "That's it?" Youngjae asked him, regretting it instantly. He'd told himself he would be as stand-offish as possible, and he wasn't off to a good start.

"What's it?" Daehyun looked confused. He flagged the bartender down. "What are you having? Let me get you a drink."

"We haven't seen each other in weeks," Youngjae said irritably.

"Why? Did you miss me?" Daehyun was smirking again. Youngjae wanted to slap it off his face. Instantly, the smirk fell. "Oh," Daehyun said. "You did, didn't you? I didn't tell you - I was  traveling for the past few weeks. It was kind of a sudden announcement, and I didn't have your number. I'm sorry."

He apologized easily, Youngjae thought, but he held onto his anger righteously. Even if that was the truth, Daehyun could have contacted the bakery and told him. He could have done something.

Youngjae sulked, leaning with his elbows on the bar.

"Hey," Daehyun said, right next to his ear. "I'm sorry. If it's any consolation, I missed you, too."

"I didn't miss you," Youngjae bit out quickly, flushing at how young he sounded. Daehyun trailed his finger down the curve of Youngjae's ear, and Youngjae shivered.

"Okay," Daehyun said. "Then I didn't miss you, either."

"God," Youngjae nearly shouted, anger slipping into frustration and want as he turned to him, eyes flashing. "You're impossible."

He kissed him, and they never got that other drink.

.

Youngjae awoke in soft sheets that weren't his own, on a pillow that smelled like Daehyun's shampoo, sleepy and warm and sated. He stretched, reached behind him, and found empty space.

Frowning, Youngjae sat up, wincing a little when his legs protested and remembering how tenderly Daehyun had cleaned him up, after, when Youngjae was too exhausted to do anything but roll over onto his stomach and close his eyes. He was still naked under the sheets, but Daehyun was nowhere in sight.

There wasn't even the smell of coffee brewing or breakfast frying coming from the kitchen, just empty silence in a strange apartment.

"Daehyun?" Youngjae tried calling, voice raspy.

There was no answer.

Youngjae searched for his phone. They'd finally exchanged numbers last night, so maybe Daehyun had contacted him there.

When he found it, there was a note attached to the screen, hastily scrawled and brief. Youngjae read it, chewing on his lip.

_Help yourself to breakfast. If you leave, lock the door behind you. Or stay. Sorry - last minute emergency at office. Will be back in a few hours. - D_

Youngjae read it again, and again. He felt his eyes drawn to the simplest sentence written there, and bit his lip to keep a smile from breaking his face wide open.  _Or stay,_  Daehyun had offered.

He flopped back onto the bed, reading the note again.

He stayed.

.

**Author's Note:**

> Come play with me [on tumblr](http://paperkrane.tumblr.com) or [ask me a prompt!](http://andnowforyaya.tumblr.com/ask)


End file.
